


Treason

by anjelicajasmin



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Kings & Queens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-11 19:54:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anjelicajasmin/pseuds/anjelicajasmin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A powerful queen, a king with wandering eyes, a Lady caught in between, and a palace full of secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mellivia AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/21606) by dannylaceys. 



The sprawling acreage of the Hale estate was arguably the most impressive layout in the entire land. Its main house was not a remarkable structure, old and draped in a healthy layer of ivy, but the gardens rivaled those of the royal palace. Lady Sybil took great pride in the upkeep of her land, having grown up with little to her name. Her father had worked long and hard to secure her marriage to Lord Hale, and her family had nearly gone penniless acquiring a dowry just barely large enough to spark the interest of the Hales. Not once did she dream of taking for granted what her parents had strived to achieve. And her own daughter would do even better than she, marry even higher than an Earl. Sybil had her sights set on the Duke of Pope, whose son was a mere ten years ahead of young Mellie’s tender age of thirteen. The Duke’s daughter was the perfect age for her son, as well, securing a beneficial union for the family. It was only a matter of when; when the Duke would approve, and how far were Sibyl and her husband willing to go.

As if summoned by the mere thought of his name, Lord Thomas approached Sybil so silently she was unaware of his presence until a calloused hand came to rest on her shoulder. Through the large bedroom window, they watched Mellie and Henry bound through the low garden with the Duke’s young daughter.

“Henry is quickly approaching an age where it would be inappropriate for him to remain unmarred,” Thomas announced, his tone nonchalant, as if he did not intend for Sibyl to heed whatever command he had prepared next. “The girl, when will we have her father’s permission?”

Lady Sibyl clucked lightly and continued watching the children play. “She’s just a child, barely even ten. You must be patient, my Lord. The Duke will never agree to marry his daughter so young, nor so easily. She must be courted, her heart won. He adores the young girl, and if she is unhappy with the union, he won’t allow it.”

“Preposterous.” The Lord’s disdain was as heavy as the hand he had resting on his wife. “She’s _his_ child. He would do well to give the girl some discipline. Look how wantonly she plays – I can nearly see her underthings from here. Mellie shouldn’t be exposed to such behavior. I’m trying to raise her to be a proper lady.”

“Do you suggest my daughter is not a lady? No matter. I would rather she learn to think for herself than to spend her life taking orders from a man not nearly as smart as she.”

“You would do well not to speak so, Sibyl. Now, rise up and properly greet your husband who brings you such good news.”

Skirt in hand, Sibyl rose from her chair and turned to face her husband. “Accept my apologies, You Lordship.” She leaned forward, pressing her still lips to the roughened skin of her husband’s cheek. “What news do you bring for me today?”

Thomas clapped once, his face lighting up. “My dear uncle Cyrus, the cardinal and our king’s most trusted advisor, has gotten us an invitation to court. Mellie shall be trained amongst the highest names in the land, and become a lady in waiting to our beloved queen, Her Majesty.”

“Court? She’s practically engaged to the Pope boy. That union we have nearly achieved and you intend to take us to court?”

“Forget the Pope boy,” Thomas bellowed giddily. “This is a much better opportunity for our dear daughter. With the proper training and the right timing, Mellie could be the next queen.”

“What do you suggest?” Sibyl gasped. “You intend for her to bed the king, take Katherine’s throne like she did to the poor child before her? My daughter will not be one in a long line of queens to a disgraceful king.”

“Bite your tongue, my sweet wife. Our king is a righteous and holy man. Mellie, however, is not intended for him. Our intentions are for the son; Fitzgerald Grant III. Only heir to the throne, thanks to the first queen, God rest her soul. His father won’t be around forever, as mighty as he is.”

Queen – her daughter the queen. The notion sounded absurd to Sibyl’s ears but she knew that if anyone could pull it off, it was Mellie. Though young, she already showed promise and leadership – qualities not often appreciated in women but sought after in a queen. And with her upbringing, Mellie had the option to lead; unlike her mother, who had married well above her status and was doomed to a life of answering to her husband’s demands. Mellie was well bred, and beautiful. Sibyl turned to the window to catch a glimpse of the young girl. From that angle, she could see the back of Mellie’s head, her dark hair in a long braid down to her waist. Facing her stood the Pope girl, who looked up at Mellie with such wonder and awe. The girl was born to lead.

Yes, if anyone was going to be their next queen, certainly it had to be Mellie. If only for the simple fact that she could not be the king.

“Summon your maidens and have Mellie brought inside at once,” Thomas called, pulling Sybil from her thoughts. “We leave for Mayfield before summer.”

*             *             *

“I know; we shall play high court,” Mellie announced to her playmates, staring down at them from her perch on the wall that bordered the garden. “I will be the queen and you, Olivia, my dearest lady in waiting.” Her voice took on a hint of contempt as she addressed the sullen looking teenage boy. “Henry, you can be the jester. You wouldn’t even need makeup, my funny looking brother.” She flashed a proud smile to Olivia, who giggled behind her hand.

“That’s good then, I won’t have to use yours. You need as much as you can get,” he shot back, his own face lighting up as Mellie’s smirk turned into a petulant frown. “I don’t want to play your childish games anyway. I’m nearly a grown man.”

“High court,” Mellie trilled, “is not a game. It is preparation, my infantile brother, for my future career.”

Olivia frowned and spoke up finally, her tiny frame a contradiction to the strong voice that sprang forth. “You’re really going to court, then? But that’s so far away.”

“Oh, Livi dear, you needn’t worry.” With her hands braced on the wall, Mellie pushed herself off and sprang down to the ground, landing in a far from graceful cloud of dust. She put a comforting hand on the young girl’s shoulder. “It will only be a matter of time before I am crowned queen, and then my first order shall be to summon you to Mayfield as my lady in waiting. And my second order shall be for someone to send us a carriage filled to the brim with candies and jewels from the most exotic lands, and we’ll wear different dresses every day with low collars and flirt with the knight at dinner.”

“You’ll abuse your power, then, and have yourself hanged before you even get breasts to show off,” Henry quipped.

“Oh, shut up Henry,” Mellie raged. “You know nothing about queens or breasts, so keep your indecent comments to yourself.”

“I know plenty.” The look on Henry’s face before he continued was one of immense pride. “More than you two little girls. I’ve even _seen_ them.”

“I bet it was that dreadful Basset girl,” Mellie muttered to Olivia, who giggled once more. “A filthy whore, the lot of them.  How could you be off ogling other girls’ assets when you’ve already got a wife?” Mellie asked him, purposefully dragging her eyes to Olivia, who caught the gesture and gasped.

“Me? I- I don’t think so.”

“ _Mel_ ,” Henry snapped. “That was a secret, you dense girl. She’s too young to hear of such matters.”

“She’s plenty old enough to know that she is betrothed,” Mellie said haughtily.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not right here,” Olivia shouted, her bottom lip poking out dramatically. “I don’t want to be married to you, Henry. I won’t.”

“S’not up to you is it?” he replied, already losing interest in the topic at hand. “I’m going to ride, then. Mellie, you had better get back home. Carriage leaves next week.” With that, he was off towards the stable at a steady sprint.

Olivia, her playful demeanor all but vanished, took a seat on a stone bench beneath a row of shady fruit trees. After a beat, Mellie joined her, sitting so their knees knocked together, and said, “You know, no matter how far I travel and no matter my title, you will always be my dearest friend.”

In reply, Olivia sniffed loudly and raised her head, meeting Mellie’s expectant eyes and encouraging smile. “Promise you won’t forget me when you meet the girls at court?”

“None of them will be as smart or as fun or as beautiful as you, sweet Livi. I’ll send for you as soon as I can.” Mellie leaned towards her friend and whispered conspiratorially, “And don’t let Henry bully you. If you don’t want to marry him, your future queen will make it so.”

“Thank you, Mellie,” Olivia whispered, a sad smile gracing her lips. She wrinkled her nose. “Boys are dirty and annoying. I’d rather marry you than your brother.”

Mellie laughed good-naturedly. “I can’t marry you _and_ be queen. But if I weren’t trying to marry the prince, you would be my first choice.” She closed the small gap between them and gave Olivia a quick, gentle peck. “I’m going to be the queen.” Beaming, Mellie rose from the bench and gathered her skirts from her feet, running tirelessly in the direction of the house. Olivia watched until her friend disappeared through the door leading to the kitchen before standing to her own feet and slowly making her way to the trail that led to her own estate.

*             *             *

By day, Mellie spent her time at court with the rest of the ladies-in-waiting, a raucous group of young girls who were well versed in Latin and singing and batting their eyelashes; childish things that Mellie took little joy in. Four years at court and still she felt no closer to being queen than the day she had arrived. Her orders from her father were simple – stay close to the queen, keep her eyes away from men and her name out of the mouths of others. Occasionally, it was dreadfully boring not to be able to flirt and gossip like the rest of the girls but Mellie realized that her future as queen was at stake here. Oftentimes they would see the young prince riding through the fields or practicing archery, and he would wink at them before attempting some dangerous trick that had all of the girls erupting into giggles – all except Mellie, who made sure to look unimpressed whenever the prince glanced at her.

Once, he stopped her in the hall on the way to breakfast and pulled her aside, dipping into a small alcove so they had to squeeze quite close together. “”Your name is Lady Hale, is it not?”

She nodded and cast her eyes downward, giving him a demure smile. “You know your court well, my prince. An admirable quality.”

“I take great care to know the names of beautiful women,” he told her proudly, puffing out his chest. “I see you as you serve our queen, but you’re not like the other girls. Did you not enjoy my display?”

“I suppose they are quite well done, Your Highness, but archery is not a difficult sport. I myself prefer a man who enjoys the arts.”

“Then you would love the painting I most recently acquired. A masterpiece, that one is. Perhaps you will come to my chambers and see it? I would be honored to have your company.”

“Oh no, Your Highness, I’m afraid not,” Mellie whispered, turning her head to check for any bystanders. The crowd of nobles was steadily moving towards the dining room, away from their hiding place. “It would be terribly inappropriate and I do pride myself on being a lady,” she sniffed, “Unlike a number of the other ladies here at court. Now, if you’ll excuse me Your Highness, our meal awaits.” She bent her knees in a practiced curtsy and, for the first time, looked up at Fitz through the curtain of her eyelashes. Then she turned and scurried away, joining a group of ladies who eyed her flushed cheeks suspiciously.

That same night, a pageboy was sent to the queen’s chambers to retrieve Mellie for an audience with her father. When she arrived to the room, which was sequestered off to a far corner of the palace, she found him sitting at a large desk, looking rather pleased. Lady Sibyl stood off to one side and gave her daughter an encouraging nod as she slowly made her way across the room. Surprisingly, the cardinal was there as well. Cyrus leered at her appreciatively from where he stood at Lord Thomas’s shoulder, as if assessing a slab of meat at the market.

Mellie curtsied to the men. “Father, Your Eminence. To what do I owe this honor?”

“She’s well mannered, and very attractive,” Cyrus muttered to her father. “Well done, Thomas.” Mellie tried to mask her frown at not being directly addressed and watched her father expectantly for some indication as to why she had been summoned, careful not to let her gaze drift to her great uncle. He had always treated her with disdain – he treated most women that way. In her time at court, Mellie had discovered that most men were not as gracious towards women as the ones back home. Even since they had arrived, her father had seemed to become a bit worse in the matter.

“She represents the family well, and the queen often commends me for raising such a well-spoken young lady,” her father beamed proudly. Mellie bit her tongue, not bothering to mention that the queen had said these words to her mother.

“Pardon my inquiries, Father, but why have you had me summoned?” Mellie questioned, careful to keep her voice from faltering.

Cyrus sneered, “Have you not taught her to keep her mouth shut when men are speaking, Thomas? Shut it, girl.”

Mellie tried to appear unperturbed by Cyrus’s attitude. Her mother had often told her to never let men intimidate her, and to speak her mind when necessary. A few times the men at court had shot her dirty looks for giving her opinion on matters such as the tensions amongst neighboring countries and the best way to brush a horse. Once they realized she knew what she was speaking of, however, they welcomed the intrusion. She was confident of her own abilities to captivate others in conversation, especially men. Never had she been so rudely told to stop speaking. A reply was poised on the tip of her tongue when she felt a hand on her shoulder and noticed her mother had come to stand beside her.

“Gentlemen, have you called her here to speak about her, or have you news to tell?” Sybil questioned tersely. Cyrus turned his narrowed eyes upon her, which she ignored, having eyes only for her husband. “My Lord?”

“Of course. Mellie, Cyrus tells me that you’ve had contact with the prince. Is this true?”

A blush bloomed on Mellie’s cheeks. “He wanted to speak to me, but I felt it was inappropriate so I excused myself rather quickly. I didn’t feel it was a noteworthy conversation, sir.”

“What did he wish to speak of?” Thomas asked excitedly.

Cyrus interceded, “What difference does it make? Whatever she’s said, it has the caught the attentions of the Most High, Most Powerful and Excellent Prince.”

Upon hearing this, Mellie perked up visibly. “Really? I was sure I had hurt his feelings when I denied his invitation.”

“Quite the opposite, my dear,” Sybil murmured so only her daughter could hear. “Men are simple creatures who only want what they cannot have.”

“Enough of that then,” Cyrus boomed, clearly annoyed that he was being left out of something. “Girl, continue what it is you’ve been doing. You must remain chaste and pure, but show your interest nonetheless. Accept his gifts, but only small ones; nothing too extravagant. And most importantly, say nothing of this to the vexatious little girls with whom you are rooming.”

Mellie wanted to shoot back that she was not a gossip but another light squeeze from her mother silenced her. “Of course, sir. It would be my pleasure.”

The men dismissed her without another word, turning to converse amongst themselves, and Lady Sybil gently guided Mellie out of the room. Once they were safely in the hallway, the door tightly shut behind them, Sybil steered Mellie aside and scanned the hallway to make sure they were alone.

“Mellie, my dear, I know that you are looking forward to becoming queen but you must understand what this means,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “Don’t argue with me now, please. Just listen. You intend to become queen so as to have your own power but these men, they have very different plans. You mustn’t let them get their hands too deep in your relationship with the prince. Tell them what happens, but not everything. Keep the most important information to yourself. That is how you will succeed in life; by learning that it is not just what you know, but what you know that others do not. Do you understand me?”

In response, Mellie nodded slowly. “Yes, Mother, I understand.”

Sybil kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Good. Remember, just because men are the more dominant of the species does not make them better. It only means we work harder. Now, back to your room you go. I hear the queen will have you all embroidering early tomorrow morning.”

*             *             *

With her brother away protecting the border, her best friend at court, and her future husband having a reputation throughout the girls in the countryside, Olivia began to spend a fair amount of time reading. Her governess was constantly giving her biblical excerpts and short historical passages to peruse but she enjoyed pieces that most people found inappropriate for the sixteen year old daughter of a notable Duke. Philosophy, law, ancient epics that she dug up from the cellar. The women clucked disapprovingly at her and when they thought she wasn’t listening, whispered behind their hands that girls just should not grow up without mothers.

_But it’s not my fault!_ she wanted to shout. An unfortunate and unexpected event, her mother’s death; the hay fever that had swept through the region and affected the entire Pope clan took only one life that year. Olivia had only been four when her teary-eyed father had told her the news. She had met Mellie later that same day, and the older girl had kindly offered that they both share her mother.

Thinking of Mellie did Olivia no good. Every time she pictured her friend, she saw the sprightly thirteen year old girl who had promised her a spot at court all those years ago. Now, Mellie was probably much more mature and too old for such childish games and fantasies. For some time, the older girl had written letters, pages and pages long describing every person she encountered and every outfit she wore. From what Olivia understood, the prince was handsome and sweet-talker, but rather cocky. _Men_ , Mellie had explained masterfully in one letter, _think the world of themselves – each and every one of them. And while they are busy competing amongst each other, we women must take charge_.

Olivia had taken the information very seriously. When her father traveled, she took the opportunity to lead estate herself. Though her brother was to receive the title of Duke and inherit the land, she liked the pretend that she was first in line to receive her father’s legacy. She would be stern and take no nonsense, but righteous and just. Anyone who was loyal to her would want for nothing.

“Foolish girl,” her governess mumbled when she shared this. “Leaders can’t be just – that’s when they are overthrown. You show a weakness and everyone will be at your throat, vying for your title.”

“But if I am just, they should have no reason to want to overthrow me,” Olivia retorted smartly, folding her legs underneath her. The governess swatted her feet until she sat properly. “And my first order shall be to get rid of all the ‘rules’ dictating how a lady should behave.”

When the time came, however, no orders were made. No rules were removed. The estate went into a complete standstill for weeks on end. A solemn faced man – the Earl of something or other, Olivia presumed – was shown to her, holding his hat in his fidgeting hands while she watched impatiently. He bowed to her. “Your Grace.”

“I beg your pardon, sir?” she questioned, confusion apparent on her face at being addressed as such.

The man cleared his throat. “My apologies,” he continued. “I am Lord Welles, a dear friend of your father’s. I bring grave news from the border. There was an attack, our men were unprepared and caught off guard. Only a few made it out alive. Your father and brother, I’m afraid, did not.” He bowed again. “You will acquire the title of Duchess. I am honored to be able to share that news with you, however saddened I am by the death of your family. Your father was a great man, and I had only met your brother briefly, but he was a brave soldier.”

Tears stung the corners of Olivia’s eyes but she refused to let them fall, instead sitting up a bit straighter and tilting her chin up. “Thank you, sir. Will that be all?”

“There is one more thing. A message from Mayfield.” He unrolled a parchment in his hands and scanned the words before addressing her once more. “Our beloved king was gravely injured in the attacks, and the doctors do not believe he will make it through the winter. As such, His Royal Highness, the Most High and Excellent Prince Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III shall be crowned king anon. Your presence has been requested at the wedding, and the intent is that you will stay on and serve on the court of our new queen.”

“The queen,” Olivia said quickly, “who shall acquire the title?”

“Lady Mellie Hale. The family lived just south of here; I believe you can see the estate from your land, Your Grace.”

Olivia nodded sharply. “Thank you sir,” she said again, her tone dismissive. The Earl bowed once more before hastily taking his leave, his demeanor clearly a bit disturbed at her lack of emotion. Olivia turned to the maids who had slowed their cleaning to a standstill in order to eavesdrop. “You’re all dismissed, the lot of you. Out.”

Heads bowed, the girls scampered away in a single file line, the last one pulling the door shut behind her. When their light footsteps receded down the hall, Olivia picked up a pillow from the couch, one she had attempted to embroider herself with crooked stitches, and buried her face in it. The fabric was heavy and quickly soaked in tears, but it did little to muffle her sobs. The book she had been reading that day was pushed to the floor with a loud thump, the pages fluttering closed as it hit the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

The queen’s chambers were filled with activity when Olivia slipped through the door, keeping herself isolated in one corner. Katherine, the late king’s most recent wife, was standing off to one side, looking more annoyed than like the grieving widow of a great king. Olivia certainly couldn’t blame her; Katherine was only two years older than the prince, and many people had assumed he would simply marry her and allow her to keep her title. The ladies-in-waiting formed a small crowd around the pedestal upon which a gold and maroon chair was placed, and on it sat Mellie, her deep brown hair braided in a crown around her head. Her wide blue eyes were wildly expressive as she recounted some tale to the enthralled group before her, and she spoke excitedly. It had been six years since Olivia had seen her friend and she’d expected Mellie to be unrecognizable, but in actuality little had changed. The older girl’s hair was longer but still just as shiny and voluminous; she was still slim but no longer had the lanky limbs of a young girl, her figure filling out nicely; her voice was less high-pitched but could still capture the attention of everyone in the room. Olivia had always considered her friend to be pretty but now she couldn’t help but note the older girl had become beautiful in their time apart.

“The prince really isn’t as tough as he acts,” Mellie was telling her audience. “Don’t misunderstand me, he is brave and strong. He fought valiantly for this country. But he’s got a sensitive side as well. That’s what I love about Fitz.” As she spoke, her eyes roamed across the group, and she caught a hint of movement in the corner of her eye. “Olivia!” she squealed, leaping from the chair so suddenly one of the ladies nearly fell backwards trying to get out of the way. Mellie launched herself across the room and wrapped her arms tightly around the younger girl’s waist.

Returning her friend’s hug with equal joy, Olivia tried to ignore the dozen pairs of eyes that swung her way and fixated on the exchange. She allowed Mellie to kiss both of her cheeks and fuss over her for a moment. “Hello, Your Majesty,” Olivia murmured with a curtsy.

Mellie giggled and bent her head to whisper in Olivia’s ear, “Oh, Livi, I’m not queen yet. But to you, I’ll always be Mellie.” She took Olivia’s hand in her own and marched towards the crowd of tittering ladies, effectively silencing them. “This is my dearest friend, Olivia Pope. I expect you all to treat her as you would me.”

The ladies curtsied and one muttered a half-hearted, “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“That’s fine. Why don’t you ladies spend some time in the garden? It’s a lovely day,” Mellie suggested pointedly. The oldest of the ladies nodded and motioned to the rest of the group to follow her out the door. When the room was clear, the doors tightly shut, Mellie fell into her chair with a loud exhale. “They are all absolutely dreadful.”

“They seemed quite alright,” Olivia defended, looking taken aback by her friend’s attitude. “And they  _are_  here to serve you.”

“Of course they  _seem_  alright, because they’re wonderful actresses. In actuality they can’t stand me because I’m where they all want to be. Watch your back, Livi, because they’re all very quick to turn on you once they’ve gotten what they want. But enough about them,” Mellie waved the topic away. “It’s been nearly seven years since I last saw you. How are things in the countryside?”

_Without you, dreadful_ , Olivia thought and gave a sad smile. “I’m the Duchess now, don’t know if you’d heard.”

“I had.” Mellie nodded solemnly. “I’m terribly sorry to hear about your father and brother. When I’m queen, there won’t be any more wars,” she announced firmly.

Olivia scoffed and perched herself on the arm of Mellie’s gilded chair. “That’s childish. There’s no such thing as ‘no war’. Everyone disagrees so of course they’re going to fight. They don’t know how else to handle conflict, and so people have to die. That’s life.”

Mellie frowned and reached up to brush a stray curl from Olivia’s face, her fingers lingering by her friend’s temple, feeling the steady beat of Olivia’s heart speed up just a bit. “That’s rather macabre, Livi. I don’t recall you being so pessimistic.”

“That was then,” Olivia shrugged, “and I’m different now, older. I know there’s no such things as world peace and fairy tales and true love.”

“There is so,” Mellie insisted, and Olivia cracked a genuine smile at seeing a glimpse of the young, idealistic girl with whom she had grown up. “Everyone has a soul mate.”

“Then you love the prince,” Olivia said simply, but there was a slight edge to her voice. She felt herself dreading the answer. “He is your soul mate?”

“I love Fitz,” Mellie replied, “in my own way. But I am not naïve, Livi. I realize that at a moment’s notice I could find myself on the chopping block, and someone else could be occupying my throne. My soul mate is the title of queen – the crown, the throne, the power. Fitz is merely the matchmaker, I suppose.”

“You think highly of your betrothed,” Olivia teased lightly, nudging Mellie’s shoulder with her own. “Does he at least treat you well?”

“He showers me with gifts,” Mellie gushed, “dresses and jewels and art and even a lapdog. We speak every day. That is, we used to before his father passed. He’s been rather busy since then, but it is his duty.”

“So long as he pampers you and respects you, I am satisfied… Mellie?”

“Yes, dear?” The older girl put her head in Olivia’s lap, letting her eyes drift closed when Olivia began to stroke her hair. A contented sigh escaped Mellie’s lips.

“When we were young, all we ever did was pretend to be at court. What will we do for fun now?”

“Just you wait and see,” Mellie murmured into the fabric of Olivia’s dress. “It’s even better than we imagined.”

*             *             *

The wedding preparations were intricate and time consuming, and after her first week at court, Olivia did not see Mellie but in passing. The queen-to-be was rushed between dress fittings and dance lessons and audiences with different nobles and constant updates to her father and Cyrus, both of whom seemed to grow more anxious as the day drew nearer. Mellie only nodded at their hastily barked instructions and smirked inwardly – the two men seemed to believe that upon her coronation, they would take up post beside her. She had no intention of allowing this to happen. She was just days away from claiming the throne and not even the flurry of activity in preparation for the ceremony could dampen her mood.

Olivia and the rest of the ladies’ preparations were less glamorous. They sewed and embroidered and practiced singing and there was even a play they were to put on following the wedding. And all of their time was spent together, day after day, from sunrise to sunset. It didn’t take Olivia long to realize just what Mellie had meant about the deceiving nature of her companions. The girls were perfect ladies when they were aware anyone could overhear, but out of earshot of any overseers, they could have some of the foulest mouths Olivia had ever heard.

Just as Mellie had warned her, Olivia remained wary around the rest of the ladies-in-waiting. The longer she was there, the more they seemed to goad her into revealing some sort of scandalous information about herself. As far as Olivia was concerned, she had nothing to tell, and she was suddenly grateful for how well behaved she had been as a child.

“Lady Olivia, you’ve known the queen-to-be longer than any of us,” one of the younger girls remarked innocently when it was just the two of them. Olivia recognized her as the daughter of a Baron who had recently been caught slandering the king – the Tanners, she believed. The girl paused, but Olivia could feel that there was more to come. “Surely she wasn’t always so… perfect. We’ve all got secrets from or pasts, no?” She smiled sweetly.

Olivia returned her smile with one laced with sarcasm. “No, Amanda, I can’t say we all do. Though I’m not sure what you were doing before you came here.”

“No need to get so defensive. I was simply making conversation.”

“If you want to make conversation with me,” Olivia replied shortly, “then you can ask about me, not others. If Mellie wanted you to know anything about her, I’m certain she would have told you by now.”

The smile wiped completely from Amanda’s face, replaced by a determined scowl. “You’ve kept up this ‘best friend’ charade very nicely,” she hissed, “but you won’t last long here. There are no friends at court, only adversaries. Every one of us – you, me, the future queen – we’re competitors for that throne.”

“It seems you’ve already lost that competition then. That throne is taken.”

With a dark laugh, Amanda shook her head. “It’s not about who gets to the throne first,  _Livi_ , but who gets it last. Katherine was her husband’s fifth wife, and she is the only queen we’re allowed to recognize anymore.”

Olivia lowered her voice, her tone cautionary. “You would do well to watch the way you speak to your superiors. You’re nothing but the daughter of a nobleman about to lose his title; you’ll be lucky to keep your place at court. I am a Duchess in my own right. You will address me with respect, and you will afford that same courtesy to your future queen.”

An embarrassed blush formed on the young girl’s pale cheeks and her thin lips opened to form a response, but Olivia had already walked away. Never had she addressed someone in such a way, or used her title to demand anything, and it left her with a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’d enjoyed it – the power, the rush of watching the girl’s demeanor change in a matter of seconds because of her words. For the first time, she understood why Mellie wanted to be queen.

*             *             *

The look of pure joy on Mellie’s face as her ladies-in-waiting groomed her for the night ahead made Olivia’s heart flutter. Her dearest friend was ridiculously happy, had achieved everything she claimed to want in life, yet Olivia found it difficult to be happy about the whole thing – especially as she helped prepare Mellie to go to the king’s chambers. There was a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that she shouldn’t let Mellie go; not because she feared for her safety, or even because – like many of the other begrudging girls there – she wanted the king to herself. But the deepest part of her wished to grab Mellie and hold her tightly, tell her she couldn’t sleep with the new king. That, of course, could never happen.

Olivia continued brushing the chocolate brown mane before her until it was silky smooth and straight and then began braiding it. Cinched in her nightgown and made up like a true queen, Mellie clapped her hands and brought the gossipy chatter in the room to a halt.

“Ladies, thank you for your help today. You all looked beautiful at the wedding, and the play was just wonderful. Now it is late and I should be going soon, so you may all retire to your chambers.” As they began to neaten up and file out of the room, Olivia secured the braid on Mellie’s head and started towards the door but was stopped by a hand grabbing the sleeve of her dress. “Not you, Livi. Have a seat.” Olivia pulled a chair from the corner to sit in front of her friend and allowed Mellie to take both of her hands.

“Sweet Livi, today was my coronation but tonight I become a true queen. And a woman, for that matter.” She glanced downwards at their joined hands, a pink blush blooming on her cheeks. “I could never say this to anyone else, but I’m a bit nervous. I’ve overheard the girls talking and some say it will hurt. Do you know?”

Olivia shook her head quickly. “No, Your Majesty. I’ve never…” She cleared her throat nervously.

“Of course not,” Mellie nodded. “Livi, please, I may be your queen but I’m still your Mellie. You must know something to tell me. You spend your days with those girls,” she waved in the direction of the door, “and I know of at least three of them that aren’t virgins. Please, tell me anything, Livi.”

It was Olivia’s turn to blush as she momentarily averted her eyes. “One thing I’ve heard is that men can be selfish. I don’t know that it’s true for all of them, though. The prince, I mean king, might be different, perhaps.”

“Yes, perhaps.” Mellie released Olivia’s hands and brought one of her own up to cup the younger woman’s face. “Wait for me in here? Please? You can sleep in my bed until I return. I’ll let the guards know.” Before Olivia could argue, she continued, “As your queen, I demand it,” and gave a smug smile.

“Yes, of course,” Olivia grinned and covered the hand Mellie had resting on her face with one of her own. “I’ll always wait for you.”

“Thank you.” Mellie leaned forward and pressed her lips to Olivia’s fuller ones, prolonging the kiss for a few long seconds. It had always been their way of saying goodbye, and yet something had changed. Even when their lips no longer touched, Mellie didn’t lean back, only accepted the hot breaths Olivia exhaled and returned them.

“You should go,” Olivia managed, her voice cracking as Mellie’s fingers drifted down the side of her neck.

“I suppose I should.” Mellie bit her lip and finally rose from her vanity stool, readjusting the skirt of her nightgown and patting her hair. “You did a wonderful job,” she called as she tapped on the door, alerting the guards that she was ready to depart. “Wish me luck.”

*             *             *

When Mellie was let into Fitz’s chambers, he was sprawled on the large bed, a glass of wine in hand. She hesitated in the doorway, eyes trained on the delicate silk of her slippers. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving the two of them alone together, and Mellie was acutely aware that Fitz probably had nothing on underneath the large fur robe he was sporting. He looked up and smiled reassuringly, patting the empty space next to him.

“Won’t you come join your husband?” he crooned, draining the last of the wine and sitting the goblet on the table beside him.

Slowly and with deliberate precision, Mellie made her way to the bed, sitting on its edge so her back was to Fitz. Weight shifted on the mattress as he kneeled behind her and lifted her thick braid, burying his face in the crook of her neck. A tiny yelp escaped Mellie’s lips when his teeth grazed her skin.

“Fear not, my queen.” Fitz put a finger on her chin and turned her head until she faced him before crashing his lips down on hers. His tongue dragged across her mouth, pushing its way between her lips. Mellie whimpered, which only seemed to spur him on as he bit down on her bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth. A hand clutched at her waist and pulled her onto the bed fully so she lay flat on her back, Fitz’s large body stretching over her and pushing her into the mattress. The first button of her nightgown was opened before the rest were simply torn away in a flash. Fitz ground his hips into her and she felt the large bulge of him on her thigh.

Hey eyes tightly shut, Mellie scrambled to grab a fistful of the thin blanket beneath her.

*             *             *

Someone had been assigned to come and check the sheets the next morning but Mellie was not going to wait for them to show up. Aside from a desire to be safely tucked into her own bed, she could not bring herself to face the embarrassment of having half of her family and whatever other chosen members of the court would show up to hear the verdict. The sun was just a stain of deep purple on the horizon when she wrapped herself in a thick robe and poked her head through the door to tell the guard she was ready to go back to her room. The two burly men regarded her desperate expression then glanced at each other before nodding curtly and leading her across the deserted palace to her own chambers.

“Thank you,” she told them quietly as they took up a post just outside of her bedroom door. It wasn’t until she was safely locked in her room, back pressed to the door, that she allowed a tear to fall. The stinging pain between her legs had dulled since the night before, but she prided herself on the fact that she had remained completely poised throughout the whole debacle. She would not – could not – show fear or pain, not as queen, and certainly not to her own husband. A quiet sob escaped her lips and someone turned over in the bed.

“Mellie?” Olivia sat up groggily, tossing the blankets off of her, and cleared the sleep from her eyes as she took in her friend’s disheveled state. “What’s happened? It’s morning; did you already…”

Wiping the tears from her face, Mellie gingerly took a seat on the edge of the bed and allowed Olivia to drape an arm around her shoulder. “It certainly wasn’t what I expected,” she whispered. “It wasn’t completely awful, just a bit painful. I couldn’t spend another moment in that room waiting for everyone to show up, though.” A powerful yawn overtook her. “And I’m exhausted.”

“You haven’t slept?” Olivia questioned, furrowing her brown in concern.

“I couldn’t. The room was too hot, and Fitz is a restless sleeper. Thank goodness I won’t have to stay there every night.” Mellie shooed Olivia to the other side of the bed so she could slide in beside her. “We’ve got a few hours before anyone else should awaken.” She stretched her legs under the blanket and settled deep into the pillow beneath her head, turning so she faced Olivia. “Just stay a bit longer, will you? I’ve always slept better with you here.”

Olivia nodded and wrapped her arms around Mellie’s middle, pulling the older girl closer until she snuggled into Olivia’s chest and pushed one of her legs between Olivia’s. One hand began to smooth Mellie’s hair and the other rested gently on her waist as Olivia began to hum a familiar tune. Mellie tried desperately to place the song but found her train of thought inadequate with the warmth of Olivia’s body so close, pressing into her own. This, she thought, was what had been missing the night before. The intimacy, the familiarity. She had that with Olivia, at least; she was sure she wouldn’t find it with anyone else. At that moment, she simply wanted to enjoy the closeness; she inhaled Olivia’s sweet scent and tried to get closer.


	3. Chapter 3

“You had  _one_  task.  _One simple task_  that required nothing of you but to lie on your back and you couldn’t even do that properly, you useless girl!” One of Cyrus’s meaty fists hit the wood desk, startling Mellie who nearly jumped out of her seat. The man was turning an unhealthy shade of crimson and looked to be ready to keel over. Lord Thomas sat in front of Cyrus, twiddling his thumbs and looking unsure as to whether he should chastise his daughter or his uncle. “This is why you should have been telling us everything.”

“I am not required to tell you anything,” Mellie replied haughtily, then added hastily, “sir.” She may have been queen but the crazed look in Cyrus’s eyes let her know that her status would do nothing to stop him if he lost control of his anger here.  Lady Sybil gave her hand a squeeze, a silent warning, but she ignored it. “I am the queen and I take care of my own affairs.”

Cyrus scoffed and rolled his eyes dramatically. “And while you were busy trying to provide for peasants and end all wars, you let that little snake find her way into bed with your husband. Do you know what this could mean for us?”

“Fitz is a man, and he has needs. I will not apologize for performing my queenly duties, but it is a shame that he felt the need to behave in such a way.”

“You have no idea, do you?” Cyrus chuckled darkly and folded his arms in front of him. “Katherine slept with Fitzgerald II, and do you know when? Not  _after_  he had his previous wife exiled for treason. Amanda Tanner is just another whore with eyes for that crown and now she’s one step closer to acquiring it. And it is  _all your fault_. You insolent little-”

“Calm yourself,” Sybil warned, placing a protective arm around her daughter’s now trembling form. “She’s just a girl.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, Mellie had to fight to refrain from pointing out to her mother that she was, in fact, not a little girl, but a mature woman of twenty-five. Instead she sat up a bit straighter and narrowed her eyes at Cyrus, who was looking much too smug for her liking; his face a perfect personification of the phrase  _I told you so_.

“Well, Cyrus,” she began slowly, smirking at his shocked expression in response to her addressing him as such, “naturally it can’t be helped that your kind are a lot of imbeciles with one thing on your minds. As I said, Fitz is a man, and as such he is prone to doing stupid things without a thought aside from how good it will make him feel. He is my husband and the little girl who spread her legs so freely is my lady-in-waiting and I will take care of the both of them in way that I see fit.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Cyrus sneered.

Mellie had no intention of letting on that she had no plan – yet. She smiled sweetly. “In the way that only women know how, Cyrus. With common sense.”

*             *             *

When Olivia returned to the palace, it had descended into near chaos. She had been away for a month, tending to business on her own estate. One thing she learned very early on was that happy workers worked harder, and she made every effort to ensure the people who worked her land were treated fairly and given all that they needed. Twice a year or so she managed to take a trip back to the countryside, but she preferred her time at court greatly. Though the estate was her home, there was nothing there for her. It was empty, discouragingly so, and being inside of the large house on her own was difficult.

Her horse arrived at the gate and it swung open, allowing her to nudge the tired animal through. She was glad to be back, and she looked up at the turrets of the palace with a wistful smile. It faded to a deep frown as soon as her eyes traveled down and she caught the flurry of activity all around her. Everyone was moving but no one seemed to be going anywhere, and none of them would stop long enough to explain anything to her. She dismounted the horse in a very unladylike fashion, and still no one looked her way so she continued on silently through the throng of confused people, silently making her way through the crowded halls.

She had received letters in her time away from court; from Mellie, of course, and even one from Lady Sybil asking her to return as promptly as possible. They had given little detail of the scandal unfolding but Olivia had drawn a conclusion from what the information they had given her. It was just as she had feared would happen from the moment she saw the crown placed upon her friend’s head.

The sight she encountered upon arriving in the queen’s chambers sent a flare of anger through her. A small group of ladies-in-waiting sat in their usual spots, staring reverently up at the young woman seated in the large chair. From her perch in the queen’s seat, Amanda wore the smug smile of someone who had just won a long race after being in last place for quite some time. Olivia had every intention of wiping the smile off of the girl’s face.

“Excuse me, ladies,” she interjected sweetly, ignoring the dirty look Amanda shot her. “I believe it’s lunch time. Shouldn’t you all be heading to the dining room?” When no one made any attempt to move, she snapped, “Now, I think, would be a good time for you all to leave.” The girls all rose with sour looks on their faces and shuffled out past Olivia.

Amanda sat, hands folded in her lap, and gave Olivia a sardonic smile, cocking her head to one side. “I did warn you,” she said simply.

“Now I have a warning for you.” Olivia approached the girl slowly. “You will stop this nonsense immediately. When this conversation is over, you will go to your room and you will pack your things; only the things you brought with you, which shouldn’t be much. You will have three days to make arrangements and after that, you will leave this palace. Go back to your home, or go into hiding; I don’t care, as long as I never see your face again. What’s more, you will have no further contact with the king, physical or otherwise.”

Folding her arms defiantly, Amanda crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair. “And what if I refuse?” She flashed a triumphant smirk.

“King Fitzgerald II couldn’t be bothered to prosecute your father before his untimely demise,” Olivia mentioned. “Your family has lived quite freely since then. From what I hear the Tanners are back to their old antics; trying to sell the secrets of our country to our enemies.” She leaned closer to the girl until Olivia’s face was the only thing Amanda could see. “It would be a shame if someone mentioned this to the king.” Olivia backed up, eyeing the nervous look in Amanda’s eyes. “I’m sure you noticed I was gone for quite some time. I know many people, and I’ve done my research, Amanda. Taking your family down would take me a matter of minutes.”

Amanda’s bottom lip quivered and her casual demeanor vanished immediately. “I don’t believe you. You’re bluffing.”

“Is that so? Then I suppose you wouldn’t recognize the name William Chambers?” All of the color drained from Amanda’s already pale face and her shoulders sagged. Olivia saw the defeat and remarked, “Three days and all I wish to see is an empty bed.”

*          *          *

Mellie enjoyed organizing things in the palace when she could. It often took a bit of sneaking around because Fitz could be quite controlling when he wanted to, but whenever an opportunity arose for her to take the reigns, she was eager to do so. This particular day she had rallied her ladies together to prepare for the impending arrival of foreign dignitaries. They sat in a circle, discussing ways to welcome the guests in a special way. Mellie scanned the group, narrowing her eyes when the count came up short.

“Ladies, where is Amanda? I told you all to be here promptly after breakfast.”

Throats were cleared all around the room and everyone but Olivia looked away from the queen. One girl whispered, “Sh-she left this morning, Your Majesty. Went back to her home.”

“And why would she do a stupid thing like that? We’ve got so much to do and she decides to take a vacation?”

“It’s not a vacation, Your Majesty,” another spoke up. “She’s just…gone.”

Mellie gaped at the group. “Gone? As in forever?”

“She won’t be coming back to court, if that’s what you mean,” Olivia said, meeting Mellie’s eyes and raising her eyebrows in silent communication.

Mellie rose from her seat and marched across the room, grabbing Olivia by the sleeve of her dress and leading her into her bedroom. “Be right back, ladies. Keep coming up with ideas,” she called cheerily over her shoulder. When they were safely out of earshot, she turned to Olivia. “What did you do?” she questioned, no accusation in her voice. Olivia could see she was genuinely curious.

“While I was gone I acquired some new information that helped me get rid of her,” Olivia said with a shrug. “She won’t be a problem to your throne anymore, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, Livi, you’re positively naughty.” Mellie playfully slapped Olivia’s arm. “Thank you. I can’t say how much this means to me.”

“Anything for you, my dear queen.” Olivia gave her a cheeky grin.

“Please, stop with the formalities, I beg of you.” Mellie pecked Olivia lightly on the forehead, lingering for a fraction of a second. “You’re a wonderful friend. Now, what is it that you knew about Amanda that sent her away so quickly?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Olivia told her. “It won’t be a problem any longer. I handled it.”

*          *          *

Fitz was very drunk when he stumbled out of his chambers late one night, waving the concerned guards away and continuing down the dark hallway. He wasn’t certain if his inebriated state was from celebrating too hard or wallowing in his own misery for too long. The current state of affairs in his country was poor, and it seemed wars were about to break out along every border. Mellie was always trying to get involved and make peace with everyone and it was becoming rather bothersome to him. It was as if she thought he couldn’t perform his job properly, the one he was destined for. At least now she would be confined to her chambers and out of his way; it would only be for the next nine months or so but it was better than nothing.

That was another thing; his wife had refused to have sex with him for so long, and then he had found the Tanner girl only to have her disappear, and when his wife finally came around once more, she went and got pregnant. It had been nearly three weeks since he had had some kind of relief and it was driving him mad.

He suddenly had a brilliant idea. This was his castle; his castle full of beautiful young women just bursting with pride for their country. Clutching the goblet in his hand tightly, he set off at a slow pace, his eyes roving the hallways for potential ladies.

It wasn’t until he reached the garden that he was ready to cut his losses and return to his room in agony. Just as he was preparing to turn around, a movement near some bushes caught his eye. He made his way towards it, stopping just short of what he was sure was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had glowing skin and silky hair and wide, enticing eyes. Her plump lips were parted in surprise at him and it took her a moment to compose herself, rising to greet him properly with a curtsy.

“Your Majesty. What brings you to the gardens at this hour?”

“Rise,” he ordered, his voice slurring. He wanted to be able to see her face while they spoke. “I should be asking you the same thing. What is a young lady like you doing outside all by herself so late at night?”

“I was just getting some air,” she replied simply. In truth, since Mellie had been quarantined for her pregnancy, Olivia hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. The two had taken to sharing the older woman’s bed when Mellie didn’t stay with Fitz because they both seemed to sleep better with the other nearby. “The weather has been lovely and I felt it rude to stay inside and awaken the other ladies.”

“How considerate of you,” Fitz remarked, sidling closer to Olivia. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.”

“Lady Olivia Pope,” she replied quickly with another curtsy.

Fitz raised an eyebrow in surprise. “The Duchess? I’ve heard quite a bit about you. Very impressive work for a woman.”

Olivia swallowed her response. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Please, call me Fitz.” He extended a hand and pretended to push a piece of hair from her face, stroking her cheek with the back of his finger. Olivia shivered and fought to not pull away, but Fitz seemed to take her tensing up as something else entirely. “I was thinking, the two of us are the only ones up in this whole castle, and there isn’t much to do this late at night. Perhaps we could go back upstairs and find some kind of entertainment.”

Alarms sounded in Olivia’s head and this time she did take a physical step back. “I don’t think that sounds like a good idea. And it seems my little walk has worked; I’m positively exhausted now. I should be getting to bed. Goodnight, Your Majesty.”

As he watched Olivia run off, Fitz had one thought: _She has to be mine._

*          *          *

The door to Lord Thomas’s office swung open and Mellie’s eyes traveled the room, assessing everyone’s mood. Behind the desk sat Cyrus, her mother and father nowhere to be found. To Mellie’s surprise, Olivia was also there, sitting in a chair across from Cyrus, looking absolutely terrified. Mellie clasped her hands across her swollen belly and took the seat beside Olivia, casting questioning glances at her friend who remained oddly quiet.

“Your husband can be quite the lady’s man,” Cyrus quipped. “You were right; he does have a healthy appetite, and someone has to keep him satisfied. Unfortunately, that person can’t be you for another five months.”

“Why have you called me here, Cyrus?” Mellie had been growing increasingly irritated with her great uncle as of late. She no longer had the patience to play his games, and the baby had been making her sick. All she wanted to do was lie down next to a bucket but she had to be here to listen to yet another of Cyrus’s schemes.

“This wasn’t my idea, Mel,” Olivia said quickly, turning to her friend with wide, imploring eyes. “You have to believe me. I don’t even know how they found out but I’ve already told them I won’t do it.”

“Silence,” Cyrus snapped. “I must commend you for the job you did with the Tanner girl. Very well done. Unfortunately, our troubles do not stop there. The king has taken a liking to yet another one of your ladies during your pregnancy.”

“Which one of them is it this time?” Mellie sneered, as tired of Fitz’s wandering eye as she was of Cyrus.

All eyes landed on Olivia’s squirming form. “I didn’t want this to happen, Mellie,” Olivia interjected before any of them could speak. “He just found me one night and he’s been pursuing me ever since. I didn’t want to tell you so you wouldn’t worry yourself and hurt the baby, and it didn’t matter anyway because I have no intention of sleeping with your husband.”

“This is exactly what we need,” Cyrus said. “Someone to keep the king happy and satisfied, who won’t try to steal your crown. Olivia is loyal to you. With her in the king’s bed, you can be free to relax for the remainder of your pregnancy and push out a healthy baby boy to be heir to the throne.”

“It’s a terrible idea, Mellie, don’t let him bully you into agreeing with it.”

“I think it sounds like a fine idea,” Mellie said. She turned to Olivia, whose mouth was hanging open. “Don’t look at me like that, Livi. He is right, as much as I hate to admit it. Fitz can be…he needs to be taken care of constantly or he gets restless, and a restless king is not good for a kingdom. I won’t force you to do it, but don’t deny the request on account of my feelings.” She reached out and covered Olivia’s hand with her own. “I do trust you.”

Olivia swallowed and looked back and forth between Mellie and Cyrus, unsure if they were serious or not. When neither said anything, only stared at her expectantly, she finally conceded. “Alright. I’ll do whatever you all need me to do for the remainder of Mellie’s pregnancy.”

Cyrus beamed at them both. “Splendid. And it goes without saying that this is all confidential information. Olivia, I trust that you know how to be discrete. You’re both dismissed.”

The women rose and Olivia put a supporting arm around Mellie’s waist, guiding her out of the room. As they walked back to the other side of the castle, Mellie chewed her lip nervously. “You know if at any point you don’t wish to do this, you can stop, right? I would never put you in a situation if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I know,” Olivia sighed. “I’m doing this for you. Because I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Mellie said quietly. “Really I do.”

“I know you do.” Olivia gently rubbed the small of Mellie’s back as they walked.

“No, I mean-” Mellie stopped abruptly and waited for Olivia to face her. “I really love you, Olivia. I want to spend every moment of every day with you. I think it’s awful the things we have to do to be as successful as the men around here but just knowing that you’re here makes everything so much better. I _love_ you.” To reinforce her point, Mellie placed her hands on either side of Olivia face and pressed their lips together, walking forward until Olivia’s back collided with the wall. A surprised gasp escaped Olivia’s mouth and Mellie took the opportunity to slip her tongue past Olivia’s lips. The gasp quickly turned into a quiet moan as Olivia placed her hands on Mellie’s waist and stretched onto her tiptoes to better reach. She could feel the pronounced bump of Mellie’s stomach against her as the older woman pressed her close to the wall. Olivia felt overheated and all of the blood from her head seemed to rush downward. She found herself unconsciously grinding against Mellie’s thigh, her breathing becoming more labored. Finally they broke away; Olivia putting her weight on the wall, Mellie putting her weight on Olivia.

Mellie exhaled and her hot breath tickled Olivia’s neck. Olivia brought a hand up to stroke Mellie’s mussed hair. “I love you, too,” she breathed, closing her eyes and feeling the thundering beat of Mellie’s heart against her chest.


End file.
